A Second More
by Andrea13
Summary: In an alternate ending to The Adventures of Cyclops and Phoenix, Redd and Slym Dayspring escape from Apocalypse's palace with not one but two sons. First in the Times' Change trilogy.


After the death of Apocalypse in the 38th century, Redd and Slym Dayspring escape with a new addition to the family.

Author's Notes: This story is dedicated to Persephone_Kore, the one responsible for turning me into a raving Stryfe fangirl. (Yes, blame HER!)  Special thanks also to Alicia McKenzie for beta-reading, Timey for forcing me to write this in the first place, and L Burke for her wonderful depiction of Slym in "Crucibles", which helped inspire parts of this story. 

Loved it?  Hated it?  Feedback is worshipped and adored at ra_1013@yahoo.com.

A Second More

By Andrea

In another time, a distant place, there stands a palace, a massive monument of stone and steel to a monster who has lived for centuries.  But today, after a fierce battle that was barely won, the monument stands for nothing.  The monster is dead.

Scott Summers -- known in this time as Slym Dayspring -- stands looking down at the body of an enemy that has dogged him through two lifetimes.  The one responsible for infecting his son, Nathan Christopher, with the techno-organic virus that nearly ended his life, and forced Scott to send him nearly two thousand years in the future to save him.  Then Scott and his new wife Jean were pulled into this time to live as Slym and Redd Dayspring, to raise their son...and to kill Apocalypse.

Today they succeeded.

#Scott, it had to be done,# Redd whispered softly across their psi-link, putting a hand on his arm.  

#I know.  We had no choice.  But now...#  Slym raised his head to look at the two boys who had also been an integral part of this battle.  One was Nathan Dayspring, his son, who had been the one to block the massive surge of telepathic energies from Apocalypse to his intended host.  Denied that host, Apocalypse had died.  The other...the boy who lay unconscious on the floor, his face slack with unconsciousness but curiously identical to the boy standing over him.  This was Stryfe, the Chaos-Bringer, who had been raised as Apocalypse's heir, raised until he was old enough for Apocalypse to possess him as his new host-body.

That attempt had failed, but...now what would happen to him?

"The entire palace is going to be in chaos soon," Redd said, moving to put her hands on Nate's shoulders and squeeze gently.  "We need to get moving."

"Right," Slym replied slowly, still staring at Stryfe's face.  He looked so much like Nate...Nate as he would have looked without the ravages of the virus.  Before he quite realized what he was doing, Slym walked across the room to the boy's side and knelt down to hoist him up over one shoulder awkwardly.  "Let's go."

"B-but...that's *Stryfe*!  He's the *Prince*," Nate protested, eyes wide.

"He is the only heir of Apocalypse," Ch'vayre added ominously, the enormous Prelate of Apocalypse coming to loom over them.

"He's ours now," Slym said firmly.  He looked up at Ch'vayre, his gaze utterly implacable.  "You don't want him anyway.  We'll keep him safe.  He belongs to us."

Ch'vayre looked as if he was going to continue arguing, but Redd added, "He's *ours*, Ch'vayre.  You'll have enough trouble keeping yourself alive in all the power struggles that are about to start.  Let us worry about Stryfe."

Ch'vayre was silent for a long moment, then nodded once.  "Be gone.  Quickly.  The palace is no longer safe for any of you."

"It ever WAS?" Nate asked irreverently, following Redd and Slym on their path out of the palace.

*****

            "Why did we have to take HIM, anyway?  We were doing fine on our own."

            Nathan Dayspring sat cross-legged on the ground, idly drawing figures in the dust.  He didn't think anyone heard his muttered comment until a strong hand dropped on his shoulder.  "Because *he* wasn't," Slym replied, giving Nate's shoulder a gentle squeeze.  "Believe me, it's better this way.  He didn't have anywhere else to go."

            "He was the Prince," Nate replied, shooting a resentful glance toward the door.  "Why would he need help from *us*?  Bet there were lots of people at the Palace who would've taken him."

            "And that might've been good for them, but not necessarily for Stryfe.  I know it's hard to understand right now, but we'll explain as soon as we can, I promise.  Just trust me for now."  Slym gave his son's shoulder one more squeeze, then shouldered the water bag again and followed the path of Nate's stare into the cool, dark interior of the house.

            Well, calling it a "house" was an over-generous estimation, but there WERE two rooms, with a roof to keep out the acid rain and walls to keep out the animals that might find their little party a good source of food or shelter.  Slym still counted it as a stroke of luck that they'd found the place at all.  They'd initially set out simply to put as much distance between them and the Palace as possible, with the Palace disintegrating into utter chaos with the death of Apocalypse.  But they'd stumbled across this run-down bolt hole in the middle of nowhere, overrun with vermin and encroaching desert sand.  With Stryfe still unconscious and half-delirious from the possession attempt, and ALL of them worn-out from the battle and subsequent flight, Slym had decided that going to ground for a while was probably the best alternative all around.

"Redd?" he called out softly as he ducked to pass through the low doorway.  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust enough to spot the woman sitting on the floor beside a pallet along the far wall.  "How is he?" he asked her, passing her the waterskin and waiting for her to take a sip.

"Still unconscious," she replied, looking over at the boy on the pallet.  Except for the lack of the techno-organic virus and general better nutrition, he was nearly identical to the other boy waiting outside.  Which was hardly surprising, since he was Nathan's clone.  She lifted him up slightly and carefully dribbled water into his mouth.  He swallowed convulsively, but didn't wake.  With a sigh, she let him back down gently and looked solemnly at her husband.  #I hope we know what we're doing,# she said soberly along their psychic link.  

#We *had* to, Jean.  We couldn't just...leave him there.  He's as much my son as Nathan is.#

#I wasn't arguing.#  A soft mental chuckle as he placed his arms around her and she leaned back in his embrace.  #But Scott, remember the Stryfe we met...What if we're NOT changing things for him?  What if he STILL winds up hating us, hating Nate?#

#I...don't know,# Slym was forced to admit, closing his eyes and remembering that terrible meeting with Stryfe on the moon...  #He said he was abandoned.  Left to Apocalypse.  But we HAVE him now.  We just...have to keep him.#

#I know.#  She turned to kiss him gently.  "We just have to do the best we can.  And hope for the best."

He sighed.  "I know.  And I can't second-guess myself with every turn.  I just...I couldn't help him for so long...I want to make everything *right* now.  I'm his *father*!"

There was a strangled gasp from the doorway.  With a feeling of dread inevitability churning in his stomach, Slym turned to see Nate standing in the doorway, eyes wide.  "Y-you're his father?" Nate stammered, gripping the lintel so tightly with his left hand he was warping the wood.  

"Nate--"

"He's your REAL kid?  THAT'S why you wanted to bring him?"  Nate dashed a hand against his face, wiping away hot tears.  He stared at the boy on the pallet, remembering the first time they'd met and he'd noticed that amazing resemblance..."That's why you wanted me, isn't it?" he whispered hoarsely.  "Because I look like HIM?!"

"Nate, honey, no, that's not it at all," Redd said soothingly, standing up to go to him.  "You don't understand--"

"I *understand*!  You couldn't have your REAL kid, so you just picked up some diseased kid whose parents didn't even want him so you could pretend I was HIM!"

"Nate!"  Slym stretched out an impotent hand as Nate choked up, then turned and ran out of the room as fast as he could.  "*Blast*!  I'll...go try--"

"No.  Let me," Redd said gently.  "Stay with Stryfe, and call me if he starts to wake up."

With a feathery mental embrace, she left in search of her son.

*****

"Nate?"  

Redd slowly made her way around the side of the hut, following her son's tracks in the sand instead of scanning for him mentally.  She saw him sitting on the ground, shoulders hunched over and arms locked around his knees.  His face was buried.  "Sweetheart..."  She sank gracefully to the ground beside him and put an arm around his shoulders.  It hurt when he flinched away slightly.  

"Why're you bothering to talk to me when your *real* kid's inside?" he said in a choked voice.

"Nate, you misunderstood what Slym meant."

"How could I *misunderstand*?" Nate shot back, lifting his head to glare at her.  There were tearstains on his cheeks.  "Slym SAID he was Stryfe's *father*.  I KNOW what that means!  Stryfe's your real kid, and I'm just..."

"You're just the 'kid' I love very, very much," Redd retorted firmly.

"But you just wanted me because I look like HIM!" Nate sniffed.  He looked down at his left arm in disgust.  "I always wondered why you'd bother..."

"*Nate*!  Don't EVER question that."  Redd pulled him firmly against her.  "Sweetheart, I never wanted you to think..."

"Leave me ALONE!"  Nate jerked away from her and hunched his shoulders over again.  "Go back to your *real* kid."

Redd bit her lip.  There didn't seem to be any way to convince him that he'd just misunderstood and...she was SO tired of lying to him.  After a hurried mental conversation with Slym, she cautiously put her arm back around his shoulders.  "Nate, sweetheart, there's something I need to tell you.  Slym and I wanted to tell you a long time ago, but we couldn't while Apocalypse was still alive."

"Doesn't matter," Nate muttered.

"Oh, I'd say it does," she replied wryly.  "Nate, honey, you know how we told you that...your real parents abandoned you because they couldn't handle the virus, and that's why we took you in?"

"I'd hardly *forget*."

Redd winced at the biting tone.  "That...wasn't true," she said cautiously.

Nate looked over at her and wiped his face with his right hand.  "W-what do you mean?"

She let out a long breath.  "Your real parents didn't abandon you, Nate.  We've been with you the whole time.  I'm SO sorry we had to lie to you."

Nate pushed back slightly, away from her, and stared at her in utter shock.  "W-what?  They've been with...YOU?  You're..."  His eyes welled up with tears and he asked in a very small voice, "You're my real parents?  You and Slym?"

Redd nodded mutely, staring at him with her heart in her eyes, praying he would understand why they'd never told him.  He stared at her for a long moment, then rather abruptly dove against her side, shaking with emotion.  "You're my real parents," he sniffled.  "You really w-wanted me?"

"Oh sweetie, of *course* we wanted you!  We were just trying to protect you.  We couldn't stand the thought of losing you."

He pulled back to look at her again in tearful confusion.  "Lose me?  But why--Oh."  His face registered comprehension.  "Like you lost Stryfe?"

She nodded slowly.  "Apocalypse wanted you both," she said softly.  "We...changed our identities, went on the run."  That was *strictly* true, even if it left out some rather important details.  Explaining time travel would just overly confuse things at this delicate point.  For that matter, so would explaining about Madelyne…__

"W-wanted us both?  Then...Stryfe--"

"Is your brother.  Your...twin.  Apocalypse..."  She had to take a deep breath.  "Apocalypse thought you would be the perfect host-body for him.  So he attacked the Askani Cloisters, where--we were.  There was so much confusion, so many Askani killed..."  She shut her eyes, remembering wading in a sea of blood.  "He got Stryfe, and we *barely* got you."

"I--I don't remember him..."  Well, until they'd met--again, apparently--a few years ago.

"You were just babies.  But *that's* why we've been hiding all these years, not because of your virus.  We wanted to tell you so much, but...we were afraid of letting anything slip to tip off Apocalypse.  I'm so sorry."

In another lifetime, Nathan Dayspring would shrug her off with a muttered, "Sorry has no meaning," and go off on his own.  But here, now, Nate just wrapped his arms tightly around his mother -- his REAL mother -- and held on.

*****

            "All right, try it again."

            Nate sighed and looked up at Redd mournfully.  "Can't we stop for today?"

"Not yet, kiddo.  Come on, you need the practice."

"Why?  We beat Apocalypse.  It's not like we have to hide from him anymore."

"No, but there are other people who could make things difficult for us if they wanted to.  And you need to know how to control your powers no matter *who* is or isn't after you.  Come on, once more."

Nate blew out a breath, settled back, and began running through the exercise once more.  "I still don't see what's such a big--"

"*Who are you*?"

Mother and son both jumped slightly at the imperious voice.  Well, somewhat imperious, but mixed with a heavy dose of confusion, anger, and pain.  Redd summoned a soothing smile and moved to the side of the pallet that was stretched in the corner of the room.  "Good morning.  I'm glad you're awake.  How are you feeling?"

"I asked your name."  This time the voice was full of haughteur, but now that the speaker was visible the effect didn't come across nearly as well.  Stryfe wasn't nearly as impressive as he thought he was right now.  The boy, twelve or thirteen but tall for that age, lay totally still on the pallet.  His head was raised slightly to look at the two others in the room, but obviously with effort.  His face was a haughty mask, but the stormy gray eyes watching them closely were shadowed with pain.

"My name's Redd.  Would you like something to drink?"  She kept her voice low and gentle, unthreatening.  "Nate, bring me that waterskin, please."

"Sure."  Nate crossed the room, keeping an uneasy eye on the other boy.

Stryfe's eyes narrowed as he studied him.  "I know you," he announced in a low, ominous voice.  "'Nate'."  He managed to inject the simple name with a wealth of mockery and loathing.

"Very good.  Redd just *said* it."

"What are YOU doing here?"  Stryfe's eyes flicked back to Redd.  "Why have you brought me here?  What did you DO to me?"

There was enough anger in the expression and tone that Nate gulped and firmed up his shields, not QUITE trusting Redd's verdict that Stryfe's powers weren't working for now.  After all, he remembered the LAST time Stryfe had looked that mad, and he'd barely managed to survive that experience.

"We just want to help," Redd told him gently, offering the water again.  "You were hurt."

"I want to see my father," Stryfe demanded, not even glancing at the water.  "Release me, and take me to him."

Redd winced slightly and placed one cool hand on Stryfe's arm.  He pulled away weakly.  "Apocalypse is dead.  You were injured, but you'll be all right."

"You lie!" Stryfe shouted hoarsely.  "He is the High Lord, the Eternal.  He will rule when *you* are dust!  *Where is my FATHER!*"

"I wouldn't think you'd be so eager to see him after what he tried to do to you," Nate muttered.

Redd shot him a quelling look, but Stryfe made an outraged noise and struggled to sit up.  "Do not speak to me, *peasant*!  You are *dirt*."  He sniffed dismissively and added, "And dirty.  Leave my presence."

"Look, Stryfe, I don't know where you--"

"Nate."  Redd cut the boy off calmly and looked back down at Stryfe, placing her hand back on his arm.  "Apocalypse is dead, and we're trying to help you.  But you have to let us, okay?"

"Do not tell me what to do, peasant.  And *stop lying*!"

"You're going to hurt yourself more if you don't calm down," she said implacably, resisting his weak efforts to pull away again.  "It's all right."

"It will be *all right* when you RETURN me to the Palace!  If you do so immediately, perhaps your deaths will be quick!"

"Oh yeah, *that's* great incentive," Nate snorted, earning another look from Redd.

"You're not going back to the Palace," a new voice added firmly as a figure stepped into the room.  "You're staying with us.  It'll be all right."

Stryfe cast another dismissive look towards the new arrival, skipping haughtily past the rough, dusty clothing and heavily bandaged knee to look at the man's face.  "Who are you to make such--"

He stopped short, his arrogant perusal finally reaching the new man's face, and every drop of blood drained out of his own.  Redd leaned forward worriedly, but his wide eyes were locked on Slym.  Mouth slightly open, he appeared to be desperately attempting to formulate a coherent thought.

"S-S-S-*SLYM DAYSPRING*?!"

"...Yes.  How are you feeling?"  Slym walked through the door and sat in the room's sole chair, a very rickety affair but more comfortable for his injured knee than the floor.  He looked sideways at Redd and Nate.  Nate was blinking at Stryfe with his mouth slightly open, and Redd was regarding the boy incredulously.

"F-f-fine," Stryfe managed.  "S-sir."

"How the flonq do you know Slym?!" Nate finally burst out, unable to keep it in any longer.  ~_He goes from "peasant" to "SIR"_?!~

Slym looked sharply at Nate.  "...I assumed I had an introduction already.  And watch your language."  He switched his look to Redd. 

"...I hadn't told him anything about you yet," she replied faintly.

"Ah..."  Slym turned this over in his head several times, then looked back down at the boy on the bed, who was still staring at him with mixed incredulity, excitement, and awe.  "Stryfe?  Do you know me?"

"Y-y-you're *Slym Dayspring*!"

"...Yes," Slym said slowly, leaning forward slightly.  ~_I already knew _that!~

"I kn-knew you'd come," Stryfe whispered, his eyes round and locked on Slym's.  

"Of course I came," Slym managed after a moment, exchanging a baffled look with Redd.  "...How did you know I would?"  ~_And how do you know_ *ME*?~

"I--I just knew..."  Stryfe's voice trailed off.  He swallowed painfully and asked, "W-what happened to…Lord Apocalypse?"

Redd squeezed his arm gently.  "He's dead, Stryfe.  I told you."

He jerked his arm away angrily and glared at her.  "I wasn't speaking to you!"

"Hey."  Still utterly baffled, Slym leaned forward and put his hand on Stryfe's other arm.  "Relax.  She's here to help you.  We all are."  He hesitated before adding slowly, "Apocalypse...is dead."

"D-dead," Stryfe repeated flatly, staring at the hand.  He took a very shaky breath, his chin quivering ever so slightly.  Then he nodded, as if to himself, and looked back up at Slym.  "I'm r-ready."

~_This conversation MUST be making sense to someone, but not to me_!~ Slym thought a bit wildly.  Of all the possible scenarios he and Redd had thought of for Stryfe's awakening, this...whatever was happening certainly wasn't it!  "That's good, then."

"WHAT are you TALKING about?!" Nate burst out in exasperation.  "What are you READY for?  And how do you know Slym?"

"I SAID don't *speak* to me, *peasant*!" Stryfe replied hotly.  "What would YOU know about anything?"

"...Nate has a point, Stryfe.  I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're 'ready' for.  Or why you knew I was coming.  Or how you know me, for that matter."  It was, Slym reflected, high time for some answers.  He gestured for Nate to come over, though, and put his other arm around Nate's shoulders.  "And Nathan is my son."

Stryfe paled again.  "Nathan..."  His eyes flicked over Redd dismissively.  "And Redd Dayspring.  Oh."  He looked back at Nate, the earlier loathing and disgust returned to his gaze.  "I thought you'd be...more impressive."  His eyes slid over Nate's left arm.

Nate started to cover his left arm with his right, fighting down a blush.  "You're not so impressive yourself," he muttered.

Stryfe's eyes flashed with fury.  Slym moved quickly to intervene.  "Stryfe.  Can you please answer me?  How do you know who I am?"  Keep the questions simple and maybe he'd get an ANSWER for a change...

"You're *Slym Dayspring*.  I studied you, s-sir."

"STUDIED me?  WHERE?"

Stryfe looked up at Slym, an excited smile growing on his face.  "I studied your strategies.  After you faced me at Leilar.  I've--I've been studying everything you did."  The excitement in his voice was growing.  "I've been adapting your strategies.  I KNEW you'd notice and come."

            Slym fought very hard to keep his shock from showing on his face.  Stryfe…the Prince had _studied_ him, used his strategies?  That was…at once flattering and somewhat terrifying.  

He remembered the battle at Leilar that Stryfe referred to...The boy couldn't have been more than nine years old at the time, but he'd already been leading Apocalypse's warriors against what pitiful fighters the Clan Rebellion could muster.  And Slym...He'd led them, struggling to save one small part of this time as strongly as he'd ever led the X-Men to save the entire universe in another lifetime.  And that meant, here, being hard.  Ruthless.  They couldn't AFFORD the ideals he tried to cling to.  Saving the people he was in charge of -- and keeping his son safe -- meant making tough choices.

At Leilar, that had meant looking coldly down at the soldiers they'd trapped at the bottom of a narrow gorge and ordering his troops to open fire.  Stryfe had been there that day, he knew.  Watching from the other side of the gorge as this rebel leader coldly ordered the deaths of hundreds.

...And now he was being *admired* for that?

"What did you think I was going to come to do?" he asked Stryfe gently.

"I...studied you.  Watched you.  I--I thought if you noticed, you'd come and...I could help you."

Nate snorted, irrationally irritated by the other boy.  "What, trying to find a better father than Apocalypse?"

"Who are YOU to say anything against my--He is the High Lord, and I am his heir!  He will rule for an eternity!"

"If he's going to rule for an eternity, why does he NEED an heir?"

"*Nate*!" Redd exclaimed sharply as Stryfe's face turned white.

"He--I--We're supposed t-to...."  Stryfe clenched his eyes shut and brought his fists up to cover his face, trying to drive back the memories that his subconscious had been desperately trying to bury.  

Light.  All around him, so harsh, burning into him.  And his father -- Apocalypse -- out of his armor, coming towards him, reaching out and -- "Shut up, shut up, shut UP!" he whimpered.  This had to be the peasant boy's fault, making him think these things.  But--he was fighting, struggling to keep his mind, his SOUL intact, to not let Apocalypse take him over and...

"He was my *father*," Stryfe whispered, his shoulders shaking with tears he was almost too weak to shed.  Then, desperately, "What did I do wrong?"

Slym surged forward, kneeling awkwardly at the side of the bed and gathering the hysterical boy up in his arms.  Stryfe flinched away, but was too weak and too emotional to break even Slym's gentle grip.  "It's all right, Stryfe.  You're safe now."

Nate hunched his shoulders, looking anywhere but at Stryfe.  He hadn't meant to upset his "twin" THAT badly...

Redd had to blink hard to force back the tears that sprang up at Stryfe's emotional breakdown, but when she tried to put a comforting arm on his shoulder, he just whimpered and tried to burrow into Slym.  She bit her lip, torn between the desire to comfort and the desire not to make Stryfe any more terrified and embarrassed than he already was.

"Come on, Nate," she at last said softly to her other son, standing and holding out her hand.  "Let's leave them alone."

Slym looked up briefly as Redd and Nate quietly left the room, but the boy sobbing in his arms took up most of his attention.  "It's all right, son, you didn't do anything wrong.  You're safe now.  I promise I won't let anything hurt you."

Stryfe went very still in Slym's arms.  "S-son?  Apocalypse--"  A mostly choked-back sob  "--Apocalypse is my f-father."

Slym closed his eyes and held the boy tighter.  He hadn't intended to bring any of that up now, just to comfort Stryfe until he calmed down and hopefully could rest again.  But...well, maybe it would help after all.  At least knowing that the monster who'd just tried to kill him WASN'T his father....

"No, he isn't."  Slym kept his voice very gentle and reassuring, but firm enough to leave no doubt that he was telling the truth.  "Apocalypse stole you.  He kidnapped you, and raised you so he could use you...as his host, when you were old enough."

Stryfe shuddered in his arms.  Slym closed his eyes and unconsciously started rocking gently, as he'd comforted when Nate was a baby.  "He was never your father.  I am."

"B-but you *CAN'T* be my father," Stryfe protested, sniffling.

"Why not?" 

"Because...It d-doesn't feel like I'm dreaming.  You d-don't have headaches or b-be thirsty in dreams.  And..."  His hand moved very tentatively against the rough cloth of Slym's shirt.  "You f-*feel* real.  B-but if you're my f-father, then I have to be d-dreaming."

"You've--dreamed about that?" was all Slym could manage to get out past the lump in his throat.

"I s-shouldn't."  Stryfe's eyes were closed, his voice slightly dreamy.  "I'm supposed to respect Apocalypse.  It's disloyal to dream.  Apocalypse...punishes disloyalty."  A tiny sigh.  "But Slym Dayspring is Strong.  He f-fights, and commands, and doesn't just stay in the Palace...Slym's going to--" yawn "--come for me, if I'm good enough.  And we'll--" another yawn "--fight together..."

Stryfe's voice trailed off, his breaths coming slow and even.  Asleep.  

Slym shook his head dazedly.  He'd gotten his son back, apparently unintentionally fulfilled Stryfe's childhood fantasies, and Stryfe couldn't even manage to stay awake long enough for his father to tell him he loved him.

*****

"Bored bored bored bored bored," Nate muttered under his breath, drumming his fingers against his leg.  

"Would you *stop* that?  It's getting very annoying."

Nate looked around the room with a purposeful air of surprise, scanning for the speaker.  His gaze swept about a foot over the top of the pallet next to him, not reaching the boy lying there.  "I swear I just heard someone talk to me.  Nah, couldn't be.  Redd and Slym aren't here, and there's no one ELSE who would bother talking to me, after all."

"Then you're in a habit of talking to yourself?" Stryfe snapped.   

"Huh, there's that noise again.  It *really* sounds like someone's talking to me, but that can't be.  I'm just a stupid little peasant, after all.  Why would anyone bother talking to ME?"

"I ask myself the same question," Stryfe muttered, glaring fiercely at the wall.  This wasn't quite fair, as the wall hadn't DONE anything, but he wasn't going to look at the *peasant*.

Nate leaned back on his hands and studied the wall thoughtfully.  "See, if there WAS somebody else here, it might be kinda nice to talk to him.  But that's only if he's the kind of person who wouldn't shout 'leave me alone, peasant!' and ignore me for an hour just because I offered him a drink of water.  People like that just aren't much fun to talk to.  Even talking to yourself's better."

"Obviously you have a lot of practice," Stryfe grumbled, then settled back to glare comfortably at the wall some more and ignore the--peasant who dared speak to him.  Except glaring wasn't quite as much fun as it had been, because his head hurt terribly and he WAS getting awfully thirsty.  But he was hardly going to admit that to the peasant boy.  Nate wouldn't even follow simple orders like a decent servant, and was rude and mouthy on top of it.  And he had the most annoying habit of humming just slightly off-key, until even the High Prince of Apocalypse couldn't be expected to put up with it any longer.  Even if it meant *speaking* to him.

Besides...Stryfe's painfully dry throat constricted, and he forced himself to swallow hard.  He *wasn't* the High Prince of Apocalypse.  He wasn't a prince at all, and Apocalypse wasn't his father.  Apocalypse had tried to...  *Slym Dayspring* was his father.  That was balm against any wound.  He just wished Slym was HERE, instead of out getting food and leaving him with...Nate.  "...I'll talk to you if you're that bored," Stryfe offered, trying to sound casual.  

Nate eyed him sideways.  "How gracious of you, your highness."

"Do not *mock* me, peasant!  And--"  He swallowed again, feeling his head starting to throb just a little more.  "Don't call me that."

"Then stop calling me peasant.  I have a *name*.  Besides, you're just as much a peasant as I am."

"My father is *Slym Dayspring*!"

"So's MINE, in case you forgot."  

"I did not want a *brother*," Stryfe muttered under his breath.

"Neither did *I*, but we're stuck with each other.  Whether we like it or not.  Not like we can ignore it, anyway."  Nate gestured at his face wryly.

Stryfe closed his eyes and turned his head away.  "Bring me water.  ...Nate."

~_I guess I'll take that as a positive step_,~ Nate thought with mixed amusement and annoyance.  He knew Redd and Slym wanted them to get along, but Stryfe was...not the easiest person to get along with, even for someone he *hadn't* tried to kill before.  Whatever Redd and Slym said about Stryfe being his brother -- twin -- he still wasn't quite sure what that meant.  

He'd always LIKED the idea of having a brother, even though he knew Redd and Slym weren't legal for another kid.  But he'd imagined another life, where they were his *real* parents, and he had a little brother who loved him and idolized him and was always trying to follow him around.  Someone who'd be there to play with no matter HOW many times they had to move.  Stryfe...wasn't exactly what he'd been picturing.

He was arrogant.  He was rude.  He never called Nate or Redd by their name -- just "peasant".  The only one he was vaguely nice to was *Slym Dayspring* -- and that was always emphasized and run together as if it was one word, even though Nate hadn't been able to figure out in two days just WHY Stryfe had studied Slym.  He'd asked, and Slym said it was about the Clan Rebellion, but Nate still wasn't quite sure why Stryfe had focused on Slym out of all the fighters in the Rebellion.  And besides, Redd was part of it too, and look at how Stryfe treated *her*.

"Hey, don't drink that so fast.  You'll make yourself sick," he cautioned as Stryfe gulped down the water.

"I'm *fine*," Stryfe replied sharply.  "Do not tell me what to do."

"Fine.  Make yourself sick.  Why should I care?"  Nate blinked and firmly told himself to be nice.  *_Even if he started it, you don't have to finish it,_* Redd chided in his memory.  Stryfe was just so...*irritating*!

Nate stifled a sigh, propped his chin on his hand, and stared at the floor.  Stryfe set the empty waterskin aside, leaned back on the pallet, and stared at the ceiling.  Neither of them spoke another word until Redd's cheerful voice interrupted the serious floor/ceiling contemplations.  "Boys?  You awake?"  She poked her head in the doorway and smiled brightly at them both, pretending that Stryfe returned the smile like Nate did instead of looking at her contemptuously.  

"Any luck, Redd?" Nate asked, ignoring his brother again in favor of someone who actually *liked* him.  

"The spring's clean, so we've got water for as long as we need to stay here," she replied cheerfully, setting down the variety of water bags she carried at her feet, then reaching behind to unhook the sling she'd rigged to carry firewood on her back.  Once she was unloaded, she stretched luxuriously and grinned at Nate again.  "So as long as Slym keeps having luck hunting, we'll be okay here for a while."

If they didn't have Stryfe with them, they could just head for a city again, maybe go back to Crestcoast where Nate actually had *friends*.  But...there wasn't any point thinking about that now, Nate supposed.  And it *was* sort of nice being out here without anybody else around.  Easier on his shields, at least.

"Good."  Nate clambered to his feet and went to take the firewood to add to the small stockpile they'd been developing. 

Redd smiled her thanks, then cautiously approached Stryfe.  "How are you feeling, sweetheart?  Would you like some water?"

"I drank," Stryfe replied shortly.  He turned his head to face the wall.  "And my name is *Stryfe*."

Redd stretched her hand out, but bit her lip and stopped short of actually touching him.  She sighed and replaced the empty waterskin next to him.  "All right."

She hadn't really *expected* him to be cuddly, after all.  Not after growing up with Apocalypse.  She'd prepared herself to slowly build up his trust in her.  But then he'd latched on so tightly to Slym when he first remembered what Apocalypse had done to him...She'd thought maybe he could accept them more quickly.

But Slym was still the only one Stryfe would even let *touch* him, when he was awake.  And the past two nights, when Stryfe had woken up screaming, Slym was the one Stryfe clung to, while still pulling violently away from *her* if she tried to so much as lay a hand on his arm.

"Where is my father?" Stryfe asked, still not looking at her.

It was, she supposed, at least good that he'd started replacing Apocalypse with Slym in that role.  "Hunting.  He'll be back soon.  Are you hungry?"

"I'm fine."

Redd mouthed the words along with him, since he never answered anything else.  "Well, maybe you'll be hungry soon."  She patted the ground beside his shoulder instead of touching him, then stood and went to rejoin Nate in sorting out what she'd brought back with her.

Stryfe closed his eyes and listened to the small, homey sounds as the peasants moved around in the next room.  They were speaking quietly, so he couldn't make out the words, but...it was nice to hear voices.  The silence with Nate had been unnerving.  It was *already* too quiet in his head, but he wasn't going to mention THAT.  His powers WOULD come back.  Stryfe swallowed convulsively.  They WOULD.

He'd almost dozed off, lulled by the soft ebb and flow of conversation, when he heard a new, deeper voice join in.  His eyes flew open and he shifted until he was mostly propped up against the wall, since he couldn't quite manage sitting up on his own.  It still didn't look as weak as simply lying on the pallet.  When Slym poked his head in, Stryfe smiled tentatively and said, "Hello, Father."

"Hi, Stryfe," Slym replied warmly, favoring his son with a smile.  "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, sir."

"That's good."  Even if he rather doubted it was true.  Slym carefully arranged himself at the side of the pallet, letting out a sigh as the weight came off his bad knee.  "Busy day?"

"I...slept," Stryfe admitted, blushing slightly.  He needed to get *better*, not lie around sleeping all day!  But he was so *tired* most of the time...

Slym reached out and put a hand on Stryfe's shoulder.  "That's good, son.  You need to be resting right now."

Stryfe found himself leaning in slightly to the touch and pulled back with a tinge of embarrassment.  "I'm fine.  You don't have to...slow down, because of me."  In Apocalypse's army, soldiers who couldn't keep up were killed.  Stryfe had even done the culling himself.  He...couldn't let *Slym Dayspring* think he was...weak.

"We'd be lying low right now anyway," Slym assured him, reading fear in Stryfe's eyes though the boy was obviously trying to hide it.  "It will take a while for things at the Palace to calm down, and we don't want to get caught in the middle of it."

Stryfe lowered his gaze and nodded slightly.  "All right."

"So just concentrate on getting better while we have the time to spare."  Slym's hand moved to ruffle the boy's hair affectionately.  Stryfe blinked at him.  "Dinner will be ready soon.  I'd better get cleaned up."

Slym stood and left the room.  Stryfe forced himself not to sigh.  Slym would be back.  He said so.  He wasn't going to leave Stryfe alone with the peas--Redd and Nathan.

Before long, Slym *did* return, with Redd, Nathan, and food.  Stryfe leaned back against the wall and let their conversation wash over him, concentrating too hard on getting the food to his mouth without his hand trembling to worry about what they were saying.  He couldn't let the *peasants* see his...weakness, after all.

Redd glanced sideways at Stryfe, who was eating slowly and carefully, with an air of great concentration.  Maybe...with Slym here, he might be willing to talk to them a little more...Of course, finding a topic of cheerful conversation between three rebels and the former prince was not exactly an easy task.  "So did you boys get along all right while we were gone?" she asked brightly, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"...Fine."  For once it was Nate saying that, not Stryfe.  He knew Redd and Slym *wanted* them to get along, so he hardly wanted to admit that they'd spent most of the day in silence.

Stryfe put down his food in his lap and stared at his hands for a moment before taking a steadying breath and admitting softly, "He's quiet."  Slym looked delighted at Stryfe offering any sort of conversation, making Stryfe feel warm inside.  So he added, "But he hums sometimes."

"Hums?"  Slym grinned and looked over at his other son.  "Going to treat us to a recital sometime?"

Nate blushed.  "It was too quiet..."  Because Stryfe refused to speak to him, but apparently he'd talk NOW.

Redd smiled happily at this evidence that her sons were at least TRYING to get along.  "Well, that's something, at least.  Would you like some more water, Stryfe?  More to eat?"

"I'm fine," Stryfe replied as always, but Redd frowned at the shadow in his eyes.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?  If your head's hurting you, I--"

"I SAID I'm *fine*!  Do not QUESTION me, *peasant*!" Stryfe snapped, his eyes wild.  If the peasant guessed how weak he still was...He didn't WANT them to leave him here alone, and that was only a best-chance scenario.  Slym might...

Nate's eye flashed angrily and he shouted, "Stop talking to Redd like that!"

"I'll talk to her however I want, *peasant*!  Leave me alone!"

"Stryfe," Slym spoke up gently but firmly.  "Redd's your mother, and she deserves your respect as much as I do."

Stryfe turned wide eyes on his father.  "B-but she--you're--"

"Redd was in the Clan Rebellion too," Nate added, crossing his arms in front of him and glaring at his brother.  "I don't see why you think Slym's so much better."

"Don't you know *anything*?" Stryfe asked him, contempt disappearing in sheer incredulity.  "He's *Slym Dayspring*!"

"I *know* that!  *I'm* the one who grew up with him!"

"*Nate*," Slym snapped as Stryfe paled again.  Nate winced slightly.  

Stryfe, however, was tight-lipped with anger this time instead of collapsing into tears.  "*Slym Dayspring* isn't just some *soldier*.  Anyone can do that," he enunciated carefully, flicking a barely contemptuous look at Redd again.  "*Slym Dayspring* was a great general.  *Slym Dayspring* was the greatest tactician since--since--EVER!"

Nate blinked at Stryfe for a moment, then laughed.  "Don't be stupid.  Slym isn't--"  He looked over at Slym briefly and was surprised to see him almost...blushing?  "...Slym?" he asked slowly.

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm THAT good, but I was one of the leaders, yes."

Nate just stared at him.  Stryfe protested, "You ARE that good!"

"...You didn't even tell me you were PART of the Clan Rebellion until I followed you," Nate said slowly, accusingly.  "And you're one of the *leaders*?"  How much ELSE weren't they telling him?  

"You didn't *know*?" Stryfe asked contemptuously.  "*I* figured it out, and I wasn't even around!"

Irrationally, Nate's anger transferred to Stryfe, for knowing when he hadn't, and he glared fiercely at the other boy.  "If you're so good at figuring things out, why couldn't you even figure out enough to fight Apocalypse without US?!"

"Nate, that is *enough*!" Redd said firmly.  Nate crossed his arms and looked down, still simmering with anger and frustration.

Stryfe was pale and shaking again.  "You don't know *anything*," he managed to snarl, then pushed aside what was left of his meal and flopped back down on the pallet.  He turned to face the wall and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head coming in time with his heartbeat, which was entirely too fast.  

The pain was so intense he feared he was about to lose what he'd just eaten, and a few tears sneaked past his rigid control to trace their way down his cheek.  He distantly felt a hand against his shoulder -- Slym -- but was too absorbed in his own misery to move.

Then there was a gentle, cool stroking against his mind, like a soft breeze that eased its way around to the very center of the terrible throbbing pain and gently, slowly stroked it away.  He let out a shuddering breath of pure relief and turned slightly, opening his eyes.  It wasn't Slym's hand on his shoulder.  It was Redd's, and she was looking down at him with a warm, compassionate gaze that wrapped around him like a hug.  He knew somehow that *she* was the one who'd taken away the pain...

He opened his mouth, but couldn't manage to formulate a question.  She stroked his shoulder gently and asked softly, "Feel better?"

She--she was just trying to trick him, to get him to admit to weakness so Slym would have to leave him behind.  But...her hand and her mind were so gentle, and she didn't HAVE to take away his headache...And Slym said she was his mother.  Stryfe wasn't entirely sure what that *meant*, but...Slym said he was supposed to respect her, as much as Slym.  Could he dare..?

Stryfe swallowed, closed his eyes, and nodded minutely.  He dared to allow himself to lean just a little against Redd's hand.  Very, very quietly, he whispered, "Thank you...Redd."  

He heard a muffled sob, then just as quietly, Redd replied, "You're welcome."

*****

Nate scraped fiercely at the tuber in front of him.  He had to be careful to remove every bit of the thick outer peel, or eating it would be a quick way to a long and agonizing illness.  With it removed, though, the insides were quite tasty, and Nate was able to use the tedious task to remove himself from the conversation taking place on the other side of the room.

Redd was out hunting this time, but Slym had returned after a brief but fruitful foraging trip with a bag full of edible plants from the area.  Now he sat with his leg comfortably propped up, pulling the husks off small ears of korn he'd found growing not too far away.  Ordinarily, that would mean the two of them would sit and work together while talking, joking, and laughing.  But *this* time, Nate sat alone, and Slym was talking and laughing with someone *else*...

Stryfe was smiling slightly as he held the bag for the discarded husks steadily.  (Well, *mostly* steadily.  Neither of them commented on the occasional small tremors that still shook Stryfe's arms.)  "Then what happened?"

"We ran *really* fast," Slym laughed, ruffling Stryfe's hair.  "Sometimes discretion is the better part of valor.  We managed to sneak around later and make a trap to catch it.  We ate roast calador for three weeks straight after that!  Remember, Nate?"

Nate looked up briefly.  "I remember."  He looked back down at the tubers, not noticing Slym's smile falter slightly.

 "We used to have roast calador a lot at Court dinners," Stryfe offered, wanting to contribute to the conversation somehow.  "When I was little, I threw it at Ch'vayre and Fa--"  He cut off abruptly and stared at his hands.  "...Never mind."

An awkward silence descended on the group, and for a moment there were no sounds other than the quiet noises of food preparation.  Nate glanced at Slym briefly, then began slashing at the tubers with renewed vigor.  Slym looked sad.  

"Will you...tell me about Nesson, F-Father?" Stryfe asked tentatively as the silence began to stretch on uncomfortably.  "I...wasn't there that day.  I took the memories from one of the dog soldiers, but...it's not the same."

"What's Nesson?" Nate asked, blinking as he looked up.

A fierce light lit behind Stryfe's eyes, his face suddenly more animated.  "It was a great battle, just over a year ago.  Father led the Clan Rebellion against some of--Apocalypse's best troops, outnumbered three to one!  Only a few soldiers managed to escape.  They claimed *they* were outnumbered, but Father sprang a trap on them."  He looked over at Slym with shining eyes.

Slym could only meet those eyes for a moment before looking away.  "It was a battle.  A lot of people died on both sides."

"Because of you!" Stryfe said proudly.

Slym flinched.  "Killing people isn't something to be proud of," he replied slowly and heavily.  "It's something you do when you don't have any other choice."

Stryfe blinked at him, his own smile faltering slightly.  "But...what about Ockland?  Or Krier?  Or--"

"We were at war," Slym interrupted before Stryfe could name off any more battles.  "And in war, people die.  It's still not something to be proud of."

"But...you're a great general!" Stryfe protested fiercely.  "You--you slaughter anyone who dares to come against you!  You bathe in the blood of your enemies!  You--"

"I'm going to see if Redd's close," Nate said suddenly, pushing aside the tubers and standing up quickly.  He ducked through the doorway before Slym could say anything and started striding away from the shelter, his hands clenched into fists at his side.  Slym was *always* talking to Stryfe lately.  And Stryfe...Stryfe seemed to be talking to a Slym Nate hadn't even known *existed*.  Not Slym, crippled foster father (*real* father, he reminded himself fiercely) to a diseased mutant, but *Slym Dayspring*, rebel general.

As he settled down to wait for Redd, Nate wondered morosely if he even knew Slym anymore.

*****

"You're humming again."

"I wouldn't if you'd actually talk to me," Nate said without looking up.

"I'd talk to you if I wanted to."

Nate grinned and pointed out mildly, "Well, you're talking to me *now*.  Guess that means you want to."

Stryfe opened his mouth, closed it, and scowled.  Nate flopped down on his stomach and looked up at his brother.  "We're stuck together, you could at least talk to me."  WHY did Redd and Slym keep leaving him alone with Stryfe?  Fine, fine, food was important, but...

"*I* could hum instead.  See how you like it."

"Okay," Nate agreed readily.

"Why are you always so *cheerful*?" Stryfe grumbled.  "It's very disturbing."

"Why are you always so gloomy?  It's very depressing."

"Apparently it's not WORKING!"

"I'm contrary.  Deal with it."

"I don't WANT to deal with you.  Can't you just leave me *alone*?"  The question came out more plaintively than Stryfe intended.

Nate cocked his head to look at his brother.  "Are you okay?" 

"I'm *fine*."

All right, pointless question.  "If you say so."  Nate shrugged and went back to humming.

Stryfe sighed inaudibly, firmly pushing his headache to the side so it wouldn't sneak out and betray him in his voice again.  And to top it all off, the water skin was empty again.  He stood up cautiously and walked into the other room to refill it, glad that he could at least do that much.  It had been more than a week now since...he'd left the palace, and his strength was slowly returning.  Unfortunately his headaches were as bad as ever, but he suspected that was because the first glimmerings of his powers had begun returning.

Redd had been so *proud* of him when he'd first managed to send her a cautious thought, just into the next room but it had felt like *miles*.  And Father had hugged him when he'd gotten back from hunting (with Nate, this time), he remembered with a secret grin.

He still couldn't use tk, and the really frustrating thing was that he couldn't *hear* anything, except the occasional thought Redd sent purposely.  It was sort of nice having such quiet in his mind -- the babble at Court had been so strong sometimes he couldn't even tell what he was thinking and what he was *hearing*.  But it was still strangely unnerving to have such...silence.

Stryfe returned to the room and sat back down across from Nathan, sipping slowly at the water to calm his headache.  That sometimes helped.  "What are you doing, anyway?" he asked after a moment of watching Nathan draw on the dirt floor, still humming.

"It's a game called tic-tac-toe.  Redd taught me."  And none of the other kids he'd met ever seemed to know it, for some odd reason.  "You take turns putting x's and o's in the grid, until one of you gets three in a row."

"Then what happens?"

"Um...you win?"

"*What* do you win?" 

"The game."

Stryfe just blinked at him.  "You are strange."

"Yeah, I know."  Nate shrugged.  "Want to play?  It's better with two people."

"...I suppose."  Anything was better than staring at the wall or ceiling some more.

Nate rubbed out his game and started drawing the board again.  "Didn't you ever play anything just to play it?  With the other kids or something?"

"...There weren't any others my age at Court," Stryfe replied stiffly.  "I amused myself."  Mostly by incinerating his tutors or killing flatscans, which Father said was bad.  He supposed he should be learning Nate's "games" now.  Nate at least knew what Father wanted, even if he was a little weird and entirely too cheerful.

"Hmph.  That sounds lonely.  But no wonder you don't want to talk to me."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Not used to kids your age.  It can be fun sometimes, you know."

"...Fun."  Stryfe sounded very dubious.

"Yeah.  Fun.  You should try it sometime."

"...I used to have fun.  Father said I shouldn't any more."

Nate blinked at him.  "Slym doesn't mind if we have fun."

"He told me I shouldn't do fun stuff anymore."

"...Like what?"  Because that REALLY didn't sound like Slym.

Stryfe shrugged.  "Killing flatscans.  Or low-levs."

"That's not FUN!" Nate squawked.

"It *was*," Stryfe replied defensively.  He sighed and sounded very disappointed.  "But Father said not to do that anymore."

"Well...you can have OTHER kinds of fun.  Without hurting people."

"I guess."  Stryfe put a third X in a row and leaned back.  "This doesn't seem like much fun, though."

"I can show you other games, when you're feeling better," Nate offered.

Stryfe tensed.  "I'm *fine*."

Nate blew out an irritated breath.  "*Fine*."  That'd show him to try to help someone like *Stryfe*, at least.  Nate *knew* that Stryfe had done awful things as the Prince.  He'd tried to kill Nate himself, when he was only nine, and apparently had led Apocalypse's troops.  But...it was sometimes easy to forget that when Stryfe was so...sad, clinging to Slym or Redd when he woke up with a nightmare.  Of course, then he'd start acting all prickly like he was now, and any compassion Nate might have felt melted away.  Nate gritted his teeth and started drawing a new board.

"This is a stupid game," Stryfe grumbled.

"Well, it's nothing like killing people, but I like it," Nate snapped.

Stryfe muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "It's not MY fault if you're boring," and made the next few moves in silence.

"I win," Nate announced, drawing a line through his three O's in a row.  

"I still say this is a stupid game."

"That's just because you're losing."

"I won last time and I still said it."

"Then you're just boring.  Slym plays."

Stryfe blinked, then reached out and started re-drawing the board.  Nate restrained a snicker.

"Um, Stryfe, are you sure you want to do that?" Nate offered after they'd played a few more games.

"Of course I do," Stryfe said defiantly.

"Okay, then."  Nate shrugged and placed his final O where Stryfe failed to block.  "I win."

"This is a *stupid* game."

"*You're* the one who wasn't paying attention."

"I was so!"

"Then why'd you miss the block?" 

"Because this is a stupid game!" Stryfe snapped, turning away.  "I don't want to play anymore."

"Don't be a sore loser."

"I'm not sore, I'm FINE!"  Stryfe's voice cracked on the last word and he closed his eyes in shame.

"...It's just an expression."  Nate eyed his brother for a moment, then cautiously extended a telepathic tendril towards Stryfe's mind.  He winced.  "If your head hurt that much, you could've *said* something.  We didn't have to keep playing."

"My head doesn't hurt!"

"Liar," Nate observed without rancor.  Stryfe glared furiously at him.  Nate sighed.  "Look, do you want me to try to help?"

"I don't need your help!"

"Fine.  Just sit there and *hurt* like an idiot, then!"

"I--"  Stryfe clenched his fists in frustration and bit his lip.  It *hurt*, but he didn't NEED any flonqing help!  Not from Nathan...

Nate rolled his eyes.  He didn't know why he was even *bothering* with this, except that Stryfe was his brother and Redd and Slym liked him and didn't want him to be in pain.  "Just relax, okay?" he muttered, reaching out to take hold of Stryfe's wrist and stretching his mind out to soothe the pain away.  As he touched Stryfe's mind, though, something...caught, reached out at him, making him start in surprise.  #What the flonq is *that*?# he exclaimed, blinking and leaning in a little more to examine the whatever-it-was more closely.

#Get OUT!# Stryfe shouted in panic as the intruder moved more deeply into his mind.  It couldn't be happening again!  Slym was supposed to protect him, but there was something holding his hands so he couldn't move them and a presence invading his mind and he was going to lose HIMSELF!  How could it be happening AGAIN?!

Nate recoiled as Stryfe started thrashing around in panic, trying to pull out of his brother's mind.  But he couldn't, somehow, no matter how hard he struggled.  In fact, the harder he struggled the DEEPER he worked into Stryfe's mind.  He shouldn't have done this without Redd here; their minds were so close, almost the same frequency, and they'd gotten mixed up before.  But this...felt worse, somehow.

And there was something thrashing around, getting worse the more he and Stryfe struggled, sending pain shooting through both their heads and making them struggle even *more* to get AWAY from it.

"Stryfe, calm DOWN," Nate whimpered, tears springing into his eyes at the pain.  "We're just making it worse.  Please calm down..."

"GET OUT OF MY *MIND*!" Stryfe shouted mentally and physically, trying to curl in on himself.

In sheer desperation, Nate reached out and grabbed for the whatever-it-was that had started this whole mess, something in Stryfe's mind that was somehow connected to his, causing them BOTH pain.  It snagged at his mind again, but this time caught -- held on -- and *fused*...

Both boys gasped as there was a *pop* almost like restoring a dislocated joint, followed by a surge of relief so powerful it was almost painful.  Nate could suddenly feel the floor beneath his cheek, even though *he* was still sitting up, slightly slumped over.  He could feel a hand holding onto his wrist even though he *knew* he was the one holding Stryfe's, and there was a terrible aching in his skull.

Stryfe could feel something...wrong, with his whole left side, cold and aching and a sense of deep concentration.  He could feel a pain emanating from it, and a curiosity that was somehow familiar...

#What the flonq HAPPENED?#

The thought came from neither of them and both of them simultaneously.  Stryfe blinked up at his brother in utter confusion, and a little lingering fear, before managing in a low voice,  "Let. Go. Of. My. Wrist."

"Huh?"  Nate blinked, looked down at his hand still locked around Stryfe's wrist, and let go.  There was an immediate lessening in the panic surrounding his mind.  "What's wrong?"

"Just...don't."  Stryfe pulled himself back into a seated position and rubbed his wrist.  "W-what just happened?"

"I...don't know.  I was just trying to take away the pain and...you panicked."

"No, I didn't.  I just...d-didn't like what you were doing."

Nate had a sudden flash of the same panic he'd felt earlier, terror of losing himself, and...of his hands held out so he couldn't move them, keeping him still so he couldn't even fight back as his father...  "Hey!" he exclaimed in alarm, leaning forward and putting an arm around Stryfe's trembling shoulders.  "It's okay.  That's over now.  I promise.  I didn't mean to scare you, I just--wanted to help."

"How did you see that?" Stryfe whispered.

"I--"  There was something REALLY weird going on here, Nate decided.  He was still all mixed up, not even really sure if he had an arm around *his* shoulders or if he was the one holding on.  He felt...split in two.  Or...

"Linked," both boys whispered together.

"Why'd you LINK to me?" Stryfe asked, his eyes wide.

"I didn't!  It -- it started to grab me as soon as I looked in...Like it was already *there* somehow."

"That's impossible!  How could we be linked?  We didn't even KNOW each other until a week ago!  Well...and once more, but I KNOW we didn't link THEN."

"I know what this is," Nate whispered, his eyes wide with excitement.  "We DID know each other before, don't you see?  We were together until Apocalypse stole you!  It has to be a twin-link!  I've heard about those.  Redd told me about them.  *She* has a link with Slym that she made on purpose, but she said it was like some twins form just as they're growing together, naturally.  That must be how we did it!"

"...When we were little?" Stryfe asked slowly.  That would explain why he suddenly felt this...warm, welcoming sensation curling in his mind along the...link.  He was still scared, but…It was a link, not an intrusion, and it was with *Nate*, his brother.  His twin.  He smiled tentatively.  "I--I think I *remember* you..."

"From *then*?"

Stryfe nodded, his own eyes wide as he accessed a memory that he *knew* hadn't been there before.  "It was...warm.  And...something was humming, all the time.  And YOU were there.  I--I couldn't see you, but I could always *feel* you there..."

"I...I remember that," Nate breathed in awe.  There was some pain -- there'd *always* been pain -- but there was also a bright little mind not far from his, curious and happy whenever he looked over...

Stryfe shivered as he was assaulted with memories he didn't even know he *had*, and feelings he *definitely* hadn't felt before.  …Love, and caring, and it was all directed towards *Nate*, of all people!  "But...then it was cold and noisy and...you weren't *there* anymore!  And I tried and tried, but I couldn't FIND you!"

Nate blinked hard and reached out to hug his little brother tightly.   …*Little* brother?  Slym and Redd had never said which one of them was older…but he suddenly felt fiercely protective and definitely towards Stryfe.  Little brother.  "I tried to hold onto you," he whispered.  "That must've been when Apocalypse came..."  He closed his eyes.  "I MISSED you!"  It sounded foolish, but it was true, and he realized he'd *been* missing his brother all this time, without even realizing *what* he was missing.

"I missed you too," Stryfe said hoarsely, huddling into the hug and nestling slightly against Nate's comforting, suddenly-familiar mind.  Part of him was still telling him not to trust this *peasant*, but the rest of him was so overwhelmed by the surge of unfamiliar emotions and new memories that he couldn't help it.  "Don't do that again!"

"I won't.  I promise.  You're *ours* again, and you're stuck with us!"

"G-good."

Nate leaned his head down and just clung to his twin, projecting love and warmth and reassurance, feeling all the same flowing right back to him from Stryfe's mind.  

They were still huddled on the floor together when Redd and Slym got back.

*****

Slym pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers to relieve the pressure, then looked back up at his sons.  "Let me get this straight.  The two of you...are *mind-linked*?"

The boys nodded in unison, but it was Nate who answered.  "Twin-linked.  It broke when we were separated--" his hand snaked out and grabbed Stryfe's "--but we fixed it."

"...How do you know you were linked before?" Redd asked softly, looking between them.  She'd been momentarily terrified when she and Slym returned home and found the two boys huddled together on the floor, but now the obvious bond between the twins was very...warming.  Especially given the future she knew had once awaited them.  Maybe she and Scott really HAD changed things for them...

"We remember it," Stryfe answered quietly, a little smile playing on his face.  "It's...fuzzy, and we were really little, but...I remember him.  I--guess I should remember you and Father too, but..."

"You were very young," Slym interrupted, *not* wanting to explain that.  "I'm surprised you remember *that* much."

"I guess.  Nate remembers it a little better."

"That's 'cause I'm older," Nate spoke up with a grin.  "Right, Redd?"

"Ah...yes, you are."

"I thought so," he said smugly.  He nudged Stryfe and added, "Little brother."

Stryfe just grinned at him.

"All right...I want to hear more about this," Slym said slowly, "but I'd better get started on these if we want to eat tonight."  He moved to pick up the results of the day's hunting and began cleaning the animals that resembled nothing so much as giant, furry lobsters.  Good meat, though.  ~_Tastes like chicken_,~ he thought irreverently with an internal smile.  "So.  Explain?"

"Nate was trying to...help with my headache," Stryfe explained with a sideways look at his brother.  "We...got tangled up, and Nate found the broken halves of the link.  He fixed it."

"Why didn't you tell us about it though?" Nate asked, tilting his head inquisitively as he looked at his parents.  "If we had it when we were babies, you knew."

"Ah..."  Redd thought for a moment before replying carefully, "Usually when a link is broken, it...disappears.  Especially after this long.  We didn't think there was anything left of it."

"Oh.  Okay."  Nate frowned and chewed on his lip thoughtfully.  "I guess it's because it didn't break right...It was hurting, like it never healed.  And...we tried to hold on to each other."  He looked over at Stryfe again and squeezed his hand.  "I remember that."

"Me too."  Stryfe squeezed back gratefully.

"But you're both doing all right?" Slym asked worriedly.  "I know a new link can be a little...disorienting at first."  He exchanged a rueful smile with Redd.

"It was...scary," Stryfe admitted very quietly.  "I thought, at first, that I was...back in the Palace."  He shivered and blinked hard.  "But...then I remembered him.  And...it wasn't so scary."

Slym and Redd *both* had to blink back tears at that.

Redd reached out to put a hand on Stryfe's shoulder, then changed her mind and shifted so she could hug *both* boys.  "I'm glad you found each other again, then."

"Me too," they replied in chorus, then grinned sheepishly at each other.

"Me three," Slym added with a smile.  "And I think it'll especially help since we're going to be leaving soon.  Things are a little different than they were in the palace.  Nate can help you out, Stryfe."

"Leaving?" Stryfe repeated, his eyes widening ever-so-slightly.

"We can't stay here forever, and since we don't have identification papers for you yet, we should get going while there's still confusion from Apocalypse's death.  We have...friends that will help us get new ones."

"W-why do I need papers?"

"Because *everyone* has to have them," Redd told him with a half-hug.  "And if anyone's out looking for the prince, they hopefully will ignore just another member of the Dayspring unit."

"Oh."  Stryfe considered this for a moment, then smiled tentatively at Slym and offered, "Stryfe Dayspring?"

Slym smiled crookedly.  "That might be a *little* obvious.  We don't *want* anyone to know who you are."

"Oh."

"Besides, that's not *really* your name anyway," Nate spoke up suddenly.  "Apocalypse named you that, right?  You must've had a name before that."

"I--I guess I did," Stryfe said slowly.  Both boys turned expectant looks on Slym.  Slym blinked at them and opened his mouth, but every name he knew melted out of his mind.

"Sean," Redd spoke up suddenly.  "Your name is Sean Dayspring."

"Sean," Stryfe repeated softly, testing it out.

#Sean?# Slym asked in amusement, raising an eyebrow at his wife over the boys' heads.

#I used to plan on naming my son that when I was little,# she replied.  #And we needed *something*.#

#I'm not arguing.  Sean it is.#

Stryfe--Sean--smiled at them both.  "Okay.  I--I like it."

"Me too," Nate said with a grin, slinging his arm around Sean's shoulders.  "Nate and Sean Dayspring.  Together again."  He giggled.  "Watch out, world."

*****

"Are we there yet?"

Slym blinked and half-turned to grin at his son walking just behind him.  Some things, he reflected in amusement, don't change no matter *what* century you're in.  "Not yet, Nate."

"But soon?" Nate persisted, speeding up a bit so he could walk at Slym's side.

"Another day, I think.  We'll be stopping in a few hours."

"Oh."  Nate slipped his hand in Slym's and sneaked a quick look behind them, where his twin was walking with Redd.  He took a breath and sent *very* quietly, #Sean's getting really tired, but he doesn't want to admit it.#

#Oh...Thank you.#  Slym considered for a moment, then slowed his pace enough to walk abreast with Sean and Redd.  "Anyone mind if we stop for a while soon?  My knee's been acting up today.  We're making better time than I thought, so it won't slow us down too much."

Redd gave him a worried look, but he flicked his eyes down to Sean briefly.  She nodded in understanding.  "Sounds good to me."

"Are you all right, Father?" Sean asked softly, trying not to show how relieved he felt at the prospect of a rest.

"Just need to sit down for a few minutes.  Don't worry.  We'll stop when we find a good place."

            "Okay…"

Slym smiled at Sean and ruffled his hair affectionately, then returned to walking just in front of them with Nate.  Redd squeezed Sean's hand reassuringly and offered, "Why don't we finish up this exercise and then take a break ourselves?"

He nodded and started running through the shielding exercise Redd had taught him.  He'd finally realized that the utter silence in his mind *wasn't* his powers malfunctioning, but Redd shielding him while he recovered.  Now that his powers were returning, he had to learn to do it himself.  And for some reason, Sean thought bitterly, Apocalypse hadn't wanted him to learn much in the way of shielding before, so he had a *lot* to learn.

The combination of walking all day with the unfamiliar mental exercises was enough to give him a pounding headache most of the time, and tired him *far* more quickly than he wanted to admit.  He was guiltily a bit glad that Slym's knee was acting up...

They finally stopped when Slym spotted a good area just off the path that was moderately defensible if need be and offered a bit of shade to weary travelers.  Sean tried to copy Nate as the other boy sat down looking far more cheerful than this much activity should allow, but only managed a controlled collapse onto the ground.  Nate offered him the waterskin and he drank thankfully.  

#This is ridiculous,# he complained to his brother.  #I was in good shape!  I trained, I fought.  Just *walking* shouldn't make me this tired.#  Not that he would *ever* say that to Redd or *Slym Dayspring*, but this was just his twin.  Nate was...safe.

#Well, you weren't exactly moving around much for a while there, you know,# Nate pointed out wryly, taking the water back and sipping it.  #You're getting better quickly, though.  And you CAN ask to stop if you need to!  HE did.#

#I...guess.#  Sean didn't *say* anything else, but his tone clearly implied that he would rather be dragged naked across broken glass than admit that to *Slym Dayspring*.

Nate just reached over and gave him a quick hug.

Slym smiled across at the two boys, making a point of rubbing his knee.  It *had* been giving him some trouble, though not enough that he ordinarily would've stopped.  They weren't exactly on a timetable, though, and it was more important to keep Str--*Sean* (he had to remind himself of that a few times a day) healthy.  "So how are you boys holding up?"

"Fine," Sean replied, then mock-glared at Nate for answering in chorus with him.

#Well, if you didn't *say* it so often...#

#Hmph.  Know-it-all.#

#Brat,# Nate retorted cheerfully.  "So just one more day, Slym?" he asked, grinning as his twin shot back with a rude mental noise.  "Who ARE these people we're going to see?"

Slym exchanged a glance with his wife.  It was Redd who answered carefully, "They're called the Askani.  They're...associated with the Clan Rebellion, a little.  They helped us before, when we first went on the run."

"Why?" Sean asked.  His brow furrowed a little in thought and he added slowly, "I've heard of the Askani.  I--I thought Apocalypse destroyed them, years ago."

"He tried."  Slym's voice was grim.  "And he nearly succeeded.  Most of the Askani were killed, but there are some left.  They're scattered in little clusters; we're heading for one of them."

"And Redd grew up with them," Nate told Sean.  When Redd and Slym blinked at him, he added slowly, "Didn't she?  You said she did.  Well, to the gate guards.  I guess that doesn't mean it was true..."

"We...had a long history with the Mother Askani," Redd explained after a hurried mental conversation with Slym about how much to reveal.  "So when Nate got infected with the T-O, the Askani tried to help cure him.  But that was just before Apocalypse attacked."  She closed her eyes briefly.  "The Cloisters were destroyed, along with most of the Askani.  And...Apocalypse took Sean.  Slym and I barely made it out with Nate."

"Oh."  Sean's voice was very small, his eyes very large.  Nate had a firm grip on his hand.  "So that's how it happened..."

"We're so sorry, sweetheart," Redd said softly, moving to put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm fi--I'm okay," Sean corrected himself with a little sideways look at Nate.  He swallowed and visibly pushed the thoughts aside, looking back at Slym.  "So...the Askani will help us?"

"They should," Slym affirmed confidently.  ~_I hope_.~  He looked at his sons solemnly.  And hopefully without asking more than they were willing to pay.

*****

"Well met, travelers."

"Well met, Kirin.  It's good to see you again," Slym replied with a friendly smile.

"It is always good to see the Dayspring unit," the older woman said, embracing Slym, then smiling at the boy at his side.  "And you, Nathan Dayspring.  You've grown a great deal."

"We sheltered here once, not long after the attack on the Cloisters," Redd explained in a whisper in Sean's ear, keeping a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  The younger boy looked distinctly nervous about meeting new people, as plain Sean Dayspring now instead of Prince Stryfe.

Sean nodded tightly, swallowing as Kirin's gaze shifted to him.  He wasn't sure what exactly the Askani *were*, but the old woman looked as if she could see entirely too much despite her white hair and age-clouded eyes.  Those eyes widened slightly as they rested on him and she murmured, "Well.  You have been busy, Daysprings."

Redd squeezed his shoulder lightly.  "This is Sean.  We don't want to cause you any trouble, but we need identification papers for him."

"Hmm..."  Kirin's lips compressed as she studied him, eyes shifting from Sean to Nathan and back again.  Then she looked back up at Redd and Slym.  "We will discuss this.  Come with me.  Mara!"  She summoned a young woman who was standing nearby with a wave of her hand.  "Mara will take the boys to have something to eat while we talk."

"It's all right," Redd murmured.  "Just go with her and we'll find you soon.  It'll be all right, I promise."

With a quick hug for each of them, Slym and Redd followed in Kirin's footsteps and left the twins with Mara.  Nate shifted so he was standing beside his brother, his left arm half-hidden behind Sean's body.  Redd had *told* him he didn't need to bother hiding the T-O at this camp, but...

He leaned against the link a little for comfort, and grinned when he discovered Sean was doing the same thing.  Mara looked down her nose at them for a long moment -- which annoyed Nate, since she was ONLY a few years older than them -- then said briefly, "Come with me," and turned away, expecting them to follow.  Nate rolled his eyes, Sean smiled a little, and they followed after her.

~_I'm not supposed to kill anyone.  Killing is bad.  Only kill when there's no choice, not just because someone's annoying_,~ Sean was chanting to himself a few hours later.  He *really* needed the reminder right now.  Mara had spent the entire time since Redd and Slym left with Kirin *talking*.  She was worse than some of the self-important courtiers at the palace, apparently deciding that he and Nate were a captive audience and so she could go on and on (and on and on) about her studies, her family, her opinions on the *weather*...

It was enough to drive a *patient* man to distraction, and one quality the High Prince of Apocalypse had never had in abundance was patience.  SURELY Slym and Redd would return soon and rescue them from her prattle.  ~_I'm not supposed to kill anyone.  Father would get mad.  I'm not supposed to kill anyone._..~

Nate, he suspected, had gone to sleep with his eyes open.

"--and so Kirin said that if I keep doing well in my studies she'll send me to Madame Sanctity, who's rebuilding the Cloisters.  She was one of Mother Askani's first recruits, you know, and--"

"Slym and Redd knew Mother Askani," Sean blurted out desperately, grabbing on to the first conversation track he could find.

Mara favored him with a condescending look *almost* equal to what the Prince could have achieved.  "Well, I would think they'd *have* to.  How *else* would they have been entrusted with the Chosen One?"

"The what?" Nate asked, apparently not asleep after all.

"Not the what, the *who*.  The Chosen One.  The Askani'Son.  The child the Askani rescued after he was infected with the techno-organic virus.  The one destined to defeat Apocalypse!"

Nate and Sean blinked at each other.  "But Apocalypse is dead," Sean said slowly.  "Nate..."  Nate killed him.  Nate had the T-O virus.  Nate had been raised by Redd and Slym.  "*Nate's* your Chosen One?"

            "Of course," Mara replied blithely.  Her arrogant look clearly asked "didn't you *know*?"  

            "But--" Nate began faintly.

            "I know *all* about you," Mara continued.  "I've been reading the histories as part of my studies.  Mother Askani had the Sister bring the Chosen One to the Cloisters to try to cure his virus.  She was afraid he would die before they could finish, so they made a healthy clone just in case."  Her eyes skipped over Sean, not noticing -- or not caring -- that his face turned deathly pale.  "But then the Cloisters were attacked and the Daysprings escaped with the Mother and the Chosen One while Apocalypse took the clone."

            #Don't listen to her, Sean,# Nate said soothingly, sending reassuring thoughts along the link.  #She doesn't know what she's talking about.#

            #She's not lying,# Sean sent tightly, his face an expressionless mask.

            #Sean, come on.#  Nate waited a moment, but when there was no reply, he prodded, #You can't hide from me, remember?  We're linked.#

            #We thought we were *twin-linked*,# Sean snarled back at him, his voice more vicious than Nate could remember hearing from him since they'd fixed the link.  #It turns out I'm your CLONE.#

            #...I guess that's why I remember forming it more clearly than you do.#

            #Just shut UP!# Sean snapped, and did the one thing he never thought he would -- he drew on everything Redd had taught him and slammed a thick mindshield up across the link, effectively blocking his tw--his *template* out of his mind.

*****

"Thank you for all your help," Redd said warmly, embracing Kirin again.

"For friends of the Mother, what else can we do?  But I do hope you reconsider and travel to the new Cloisters.  The Chosen One will be more protected there, and Madam Sanctity will see to his education."

"We'll think about it," Slym promised.  "But if anyone's still looking for Stryfe, it will be safer for us to keep on the move.  We wouldn't want to bring any troubles to the Askani after all your help."

Kirin nodded serenely.  "Very well.  All will be according to the Mother's prophesies eventually, but how we get there is up to us.  I will leave you to collect your boys then.  You are welcome to our hospitality for the night.  Your new identification papers will be ready in the morn."

With a few more words of thanks and farewell, Slym and Redd headed off to where Kirin said Mara had taken the twins.  "That went better than we could have hoped," Slym murmured in Redd's ear as they walked.

"And we'll leave in the morning.  I'm so relieved that--"  Redd stopped and blinked as they reached the little group.  Mara was talking about something without much regard to her audience, which was probably good because Nate looked openly miserable and Sean's face was so absolutely expressionless she was afraid of what he was hiding.

"Something's wrong," she said in a very low voice, then pasted on a bright smile and walked towards the group.  "I hope you didn't miss us too much, boys.  Everything's worked out."

"Good," Sean replied tonelessly.

Nate's eyes met hers hopefully.  "That's good.  Can we leave now, then?"

"...Not yet.  Mara, Kirin wanted you to return to her," Slym spoke up, eyeing the Askani girl and wondering what on earth she'd said to them.  "We're staying here tonight."  Mara smiled and rose to her feet.  Slym and Redd watched her go, then sat down on the ground across from the twins.  "Sean?  Nate?  What's wrong?"

Nate looked worriedly at his brother.  "It's stupid.  Mara just--"

"You lied to me," Sean interrupted, his voice still low and nearly inflectionless.

Slym and Redd blinked.  "We've never lied to you, sweetheart," Redd said slowly, putting a hand on his shoulder.  He pulled away from her and looked up at them, eyes burning.  Slym was almost relieved to see some emotion, even...anger, disgust, whatever this was.  

"Then I'm not a *clone*?"

They visibly winced.  Sean started trembling slightly.  "I knew she wasn't lying," he whispered.

Nate's eyes were wide as he stared at both his parents.

"That doesn't mean we lied to you," Redd said softly.

"Why did you do it?  Why did you say--"  Tears were forming in Sean's eyes.  "Why did you say I was your *son*?"

"Because you ARE," Slym said with utter conviction, reaching out and putting his hand on Sean's shoulder despite the boy's efforts to pull away.

"You're my brother," Nate whispered, leaning his head against Sean's shoulder, tears in his own eyes.  Having the link blocked off like this was almost physically painful.  "I love you."

"I'm your *CLONE*!" Sean snarled.  "Clones aren't even REAL!  They're only good for--for the kind of jobs you won't even give to *flatscans*.  Or...f-for h-harvesting..."

Slym winced.  Organ harvesting from clones was unfortunately too common of a practice, among those in this time who could afford it.  It was too easy to exploit someone you grew in a tank.  "Just because some people exploit clones doesn't mean that there's anything *wrong* with them," he said firmly.  "You're *just* as real as Nate is.  And just as much my son."

"T-then w-why did Nate g-get you and I g-got Apocalypse?" Sean asked miserably, tears escaping his control and tracing their way down his cheeks.

"I'm *sorry*," Nate whispered.  "I didn't mean it..."

"It wasn't your fault!" Redd exclaimed, pulling him over to hug tightly just as Slym did the same with Sean.  "It wasn't *either* of your faults!  It was an *accident*.  We wanted to save you both, but we *couldn't*."

"It was the middle of a massacre," Slym told them softly.  "We didn't even know where you WERE, we didn't know how to get to you, and by the time we did, Apocalypse already HAD you, Sean.  We had to fight Ch'vayre just to get Nate back, and that was a very close thing."

"B-but clones aren't REAL!" Sean protested, sniffling against Slym's chest.

"Why NOT?" Redd asked reasonably.  "Yes, you have the same DNA, but that doesn't make you any less real.  So do identical twins.  They're...nature's clones.  You're still very much your own person."

"You've led different lives, you have different personalities," Slym added, stroking Sean's hair gently.  "You're our son, you're Nate's brother, and NOTHING can change that."

"B-but--"

"I'm holding you right now.  I can feel you, I can talk to you," Slym interrupted firmly.  "You have your own thoughts and emotions, and you *don't* act the same as Nate.  You're not just a copy of him.  You're Sean Dayspring, and I love Sean Dayspring very, very much."

Nate hugged Redd tightly and watched his--his TWIN, flonq it!  Sean pulled back from Slym enough to wipe his face and looked at him for a long moment, then turned to look at Nate.  Nate held out his hand plaintively.  "I love you, little brother."

"I--"  Sean's chin quivered for a moment as he studied Nate's hand.  "Y-you think I'm real too?"

"You think I'd psi-link to just *anybody*?"

Sean blinked at him, then gave a choked giggle and leaned down to hug him tightly, conveniently without losing his grip on Slym either.  Slym obligingly allowed himself to be pulled over and gathered *both* boys up in a hug.

"I love you too, big brother," Sean whispered.

*****

"So you want to kill me.  What else is new?" 

"C'mon, Sean!  You're exaggerating," Nate said with an endearing grin.

"I am NOT.  You're trying to kill me."

"I just want to practice my tk!"

"Not on me!!"

Slym grinned as he watched his sons' mock argument at their latest campsite.  The preceding weeks had been very good to the little Dayspring unit.  They'd traveled together through the sometimes-harsh, always-difficult landscape, sometimes only barely evading the fights and skirmishes that had broken out after Apocalypse's death and the disappearance of his heir.

But they were together, and that was all that really mattered.

Slym loved times like this, when he could take a moment out of their busy day and just...watch his family.  His sons, growing closer every day with their restored psi-link until Slym thought *surely* their future had been changed and they could never hate each other as much as the versions he'd known.  His wife, still so beautiful after more than twelve years of this harsh life, laughing at their sons antics.  

"Boys, boys!" she interrupted with a laugh.  "No tk practice on each other for now.  Just help set up camp."

"Yes, Redd," they chorused, grinning and moving off to help bring in the water.

Redd smiled after them, then went to join Slym by the fire.  "You look...content," she said softly, folding her hands around his.

"I am."  He set aside the fruits of that day's hunting and leaned over to kiss her gently.  "Look at them, Redd.  They're not going to grow up like Cable and Stryfe did.  I can feel it."

"I pray you're right, Scott," she replied very quietly, leaning her head against his shoulder.  "I pray you're right."

And that's when Scott felt it -- the slight tug at the base of his skull that he'd only felt once before...When he and Jean had been pulled out of their bodies in the 20th century to live as Redd and Slym Dayspring in the 38th.

They'd never known how long they would have here.  And now, it seemed, their time was up.

Jean straightened abruptly, her eyes wide.  "Scott--"

"I feel it.  How long do we have?"

"I--I don't know.  Boys!"  She raised her voice anxiously, infusing her voice with enough urgency that the twins immediately dropped the waterskins and rushed to their sides.  "Nate...Sean...Oh, baby, let me hold you one more time," she whispered through tears, reaching out to hug them fiercely.

"Redd?  What's wrong?" Nate asked worriedly.

"Nate...we can't explain, but we have to go," Slym said hoarsely.

"*GO*?!" Sean exclaimed in panic.  "Go where?  Can't we go *with* you?"

"Not this time, son.  I'm so sorry."  

"REDD!" Nate shouted as his mother faded from sight and his arms.  He turned wide, tear-filled eyes on his father.  "Slym, don't go!  I don't want you to go!  We can't do this alone!"

"You're not alone.  You're never alone.  You never WILL be, as long as you have each other.  No matter what happens, now or in the future.  Nate, Sean...take care of each other.  We love you."

And then Slym was gone as well.

"FATHER!" Sean shouted disbelievingly, putting his hand through the space Slym had once occupied.  "Don't go!  Don't leave us, please!"

"They're g-gone," Nate whispered, tears gathering in his eyes.  He stretched his mental senses out as far as he could, but he couldn't feel Redd or Slym anywhere.  "They're really gone..."

"They left..."

The boys clung to each other for a long moment, fears and loneliness and uncertainty welling up and spilling over in the form of tears.  If not for the link he could lean on for comfort, Sean knew he would have collapsed by now.  As it was, he could barely choke back the horrible sense of abandonment long enough to hug his brother fiercely and pull back to wipe his eyes.

"We'll--we'll be okay, Nate.  I--They didn't WANT to leave us."

"B-but...what are we supposed to DO?" Nate sniffed.

"F-Father said we--we have to take c-care of each other.  So...I'll take care of you if you'll take care of me, okay?"

Nate's chin quivered, but he nodded resolutely.  "Okay..."  He wiped his eyes and tried desperately to look as firm and confident as Slym always did.  "We'll take care of each other.  But...w-what do we do now?"

Sean leaned back to consider this for a long moment.  "I...I'm not sure.  But...Father's been telling me how Apocalypse hurt a lot of people, made the world a lot worse.  And I--I helped.  I..."  He took a deep breath.  "Redd and Slym would want me to try to make up for that."

"You didn't know any better then," Nate said, squeezing Sean's hand.  

"But I do NOW.  I should do something.  I just..."  His face crumpled.  "I don't know WHAT."

Nate took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.  "From everything Redd and Slym told me, Apocalypse went a long way to taking apart a dream."  He reached out and slung his arm around his twin's shoulders.  "We're going to put it together again."

_*A Beginning*_


End file.
